Weakness of being fine
by Sarahbob
Summary: Enjolras gets injured when a group of robbers disturb his speech. Feeling, as being a leader, he must not show any signs of weakness towards his friends, he decides to hide his injury, which ofcourse can only end bad. (Hurt!Enjolras, Comfort!Amis)
1. Chapter 1

A time to acknowledge you are not fine

Hi everyone! So, ever since I saw the movie Les Miserables, I've been obsessed with the story. Although I haven't yet had the time to read the book, I've done quite some research and read loads of stories here on . I might not be able (yet) to get every character right, I hope I can at least entertain you with my stories.

_This story is still quite short, because I first want to know if there is even any interest in it at all. It is about Enjolras and les amis set some time before the rebellion. Enjolras gives one of his inspiring speeches but things escalate and he finds himself in the midst of a riot. He gets injured but tries to hide it from his friends, which of course, doesn't end well._

It was supposed to be peaceful demonstration. Enjolras found himself preaching on the rights of man, their equality and the time for change in front of a small crowd drinking up every word he had to say, nodding their understandings and cheering him on.  
He was alone, his friends were either back at Café Musain or speaking to the people in another part of Paris.  
He was right in the middle of his talk when he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head. Everything went blurry; the world tilted and suddenly all he felt himself falling. Things went so fast after that, he would have a hard time telling what in godsname was going on. There were people shouting and running. People falling and crying.  
And then there was a group of men he did not recognize. They were definitely not present at his speech in the beginning and he concluded right away they were responsible for the panic in the crowd and the pain in his head. That was most likely the last coherent thought he had before everything went black.

When he came to and opened his eyes he was seated against a wall along with some other people who got injured. Confused he tried to get up and find out what had happened, but he was pushed down by a police man.  
"Easy there young man, you took quite the fall."

"What happened?", Enjolras asked, wondering if the police man knew what he was doing seconds before the panic started.

"You got a knock to the head with a wine bottle by a group of bandits", he answered, "They were trying to rob as many people as they could, even though there is not much to take from the ones gathered here today, as you in fact pointed out quite clearly during your little speech before."

There was no anger in the man's voice however; Enjolras even thought he could detect a whiff of sympathy there and forced himself to relax.

"Were the men caught?", Enjolras asked.

"Yes, they were and they will be punished fittingly. Now, do you think you feel good enough to stand up?"

Enjolras nodded and got up while holding a firm hand on the wall behind him. "I suppose I should say some things about what you were doing before, but let's just leave it at this", the man said.

After making sure the people who got involved in the riot were going to be okay, Enjolras decided to go his way. There was no way he would be able to finish what he had started now anyway. Feeling as if he got hit on the head with anvil he wanted nothing more than to return to his lodge, lay down, and wish the pain away. But he had to report to his friends at the Musain. They would want to know that now there were bandits roaming around the streets of Paris. "Probably out of poverty as well", Enjolras thought to himself.

When he arrived at the Café, he took a deep breath before going in. He needed to be strong. No doubt his friends would fuss all over him if they knew he got hit in the head and fell down the crates he was standing on while doing his speech. He was fine. Just a little headache, nothing a little sleep couldn't fix. But first he had to report. And so he went inside.

tbc.


	2. Chapter 2

When his friend and leader walked into the café, Combeferre immediately sensed something was off about him. He seemed to move slower and looked a little too pale for his liking.

"Are you okay, mon ami?", he asked when Enjolras walked towards him.

"Me? Yes, i feel fine. Why are you asking?", the young blonde answered.

Combeferre looked at him and shrugged. He was probably imagining it. If Enjolras claimed to be okay...

"No reason, you look a little pale is all", he said.

Enjolras was slightly annoyed with himself. He was fine, just a headache. Why would his pallor fail him now.

He sighed. "Just a little headache 'ferre. We had a bit of a fuss during my speech earlier. I'll tell you later, when everyone's back here."

Combeferre watched as his friend took a seat in a nearby chair and started working on his notes.

"Can I get you something to drink maybe?", he asked.

"Enjolras?! A drink? Hah, have you gone rather mad my friend", came a voice from the bar. Both Enjolras and Combeferre looked up as Grantaire came walking towards them.

"He can have my drink if he wants", slurred Grantaire drunkenly. "Though I myself have not yet had enough".

"I beg to differ", Enjolras whispered annoyed. His head ached and Grantaire's shouting only intensified it. "I'll have some water please 'ferre. That classifies as a drink for some of us as well."

Grantaire snorted at that and took a seat opposite of Enjolras. "Take some time to relax Apollo. You just got back and already you're working. Do you even know how to, you know, not work?"

Enjolras looked up and answered Grantaire tiredly. "In a time where my fellow people has to suffer; where they have to work themselves nearly to death; have to worry every day again if tomorrow there will be enough food to feed the little ones; a time where my fellow people has no time whatsoever to relax without there being a price to pay; no Grantaire, in a time like that I can not imagine a better way to spend my time than working towards a better future. And I pitty those who care so little about this that they simply drink their time away every single day."

Grantaire raised his eyebrows and snorted again. "Whatever Apollo, you need to relax."

Enjolras got irritated but willed himself to stay calm. "And you need to put the bottle down." They looked at each other. Then Enjolras continued: "and if you're not, which I assume is going to be the case, then at least leave me alone and let me work."

Grantaire wanted to respond, but Combeferre returned at that point and shot Grantaire a warning look.

"Fine, I'll go. I'll let you work yourself to an early grave for a people who don't care anyway."

Enjolras slammed his fist down angrily and was about to raise his voice to Grantaire, but Combeferre beat him to it.

"Grantaire will you please do what you do best, mind your own drunken business and leave our friend alone if he wishes you to. Your drunken talk makes no sense and only adds to his already present headache." He gave the man a warning glare.

Grantaire stood and stumbled away, already occupied with a woman as drunk as himself, as if nothing had happened.

"He drives me crazy", said Enjolras. "He believes in nothing and yet he stays and annoys me. I do not understand him. Why does he not just leave if it does not interest him."

Combeferre watched Enjolras for a second and sighed. "Would you want him to leave?", he then asked.

Enjolas thought about that. Admittingly somewhere he did care for Grantaire. "I just really wish he would believe in what we try to achieve."

Combeferre nodded and decided to let it rest and give Enjolras his chance to work on his notes. In the next hour the other friends slowly made their way back to the café. Some of them joined Grantaire, had a drink and a laugh, others discussed the progress they made or failed to make that day.

When everyone was present, Enjolras prepared himself to report to the rest what had happened that day, although he made it a slightly different story. He was not planning on sharing his little nose dive with them.

"So now we do not only have to worry about the police, but we also have to be on the lookout for a group of robbers who take advantage of us gathering the people together just so they can steal from those who already have nothing?", Marius asked after Enjolras was finished.

"It seems so, mon ami. They are an easy target. I fear poverty has driven these people to turn to the wrong path. And if that is the case, who knows how many people start turning towards criminality. What if they simply do not have a choice? This development seems again to prove the fact that it is most necessary that things must change." He looked around his friends. "Now more than ever we need to prepare the people of what is about to come! The time for change is near my friends!"

He then paused, feeling a rush of nausea and dizzyness attack him. "We..we will discuss this matter more in our next..." He had to close his eyes for a moment. Why was the world spinning? "We'll discuss it in our next meeting." He tried to steady himself, not to worry his friends but it already seemed to late. He heared them talking. Or were they shouting? What was that loud ringing in his ears?

Suddenly he felt himself falling._ Not again...what_? He never felt himself hitting the ground nor hear his friends' frightened shouts, for everything suddenly was black again.

tbc.


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras came to with a startle. He lay on his back on the ground of café Musain and above him were the heads of his friends. Combeferre was hovering right above him telling the others to step back and give him some space.

"What?", Enjolras started, but he was cut off by a wave of nausea and before he knew it, he was turned on his side and was retching all over the ground.

"Easy Enjolras, deep breaths", he heard Combeferre tell him.

Enjolras did as he was told and the nausea and dizzyness seemed to abade a bit. "Don't worry mes ami, nothing's wrong. Just haven't had a chance to eat today", he told his worried friends with a slightly trembling voice.

When he tried to get up, Combeferre pushed him down gently again. "Not so quick Enj. You just blacked out, got sick and - i gotta say - you look like hell."

"I said i'm fine 'ferre. Everyone gets sick once in a while, no big deal. I'll go home, try to eat something and then i'll rest." He felt all his friends eyes on him and it made him feel really uncomfortable and exposed. Not to mention the feeling of shame that came over him when he found out he had passed out in the middle of his speech. _Why do you have to be so weak_, he thought to himself angrily.

"Maybe he should have that other drink now. Give him something of a boost", snickered Grantaire, although the fear and worry for his idol were evident in his voice.

"Courfeyrac, help me get him up?", asked Combeferre. He did not seem convinced after what Enjolras told them. Something was off, he knew it. He had known it ever since his friend had entered the café. "We'll escort you home", he said.

"'Ferre please, there is hardly any need..", Enjolras started but was cut off by Courfeyrac. "Don't even start Enj. We are going to take you home, wether you like it or not."

Enjolras huffed his annoyance and Combeferre couldn't help but smirk at that. "Don't be so dramatic, it won't kill you", he said.

Les amis made room for the two men to hoist Enjolras up and lead him out of the Café. The blonde tried to shrug off their helping hands but found his footing not as steady as he had hoped. Deciding that it would be less embarassing than faceplanting again, he let them support him.

"Don't get used to my absence mes amis. I will be back here after I have rested and I will expect you all to think deeply about what I told you earlier and to enlighten me with your opinion once I get back." _They need not forget what we're trying to do_, Enjolras thought. _They need not worry over me instead of over the case_. He hoped he had made himself clear.

He found himself placed between the two men, both of them holding a firm grip on his arms.

"Don't push yourself Enjolras", Combeferre said softly. "You just passed out, got sick and you're shaking like a leaf. We can and will go as slow as you need or as we think you need."

Enjolras closed his eyes for a second, wishing the world would stop spinning, and nodded. He felt miserable and he decided he could let his walls down a little in the presence of two of his best friends. _They wouldn't mock my weakness_, he thought. And so he let himself be helped. He didn't notice the concerned look Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchanged.

While they made their way out of the café, they heard Grantaire shouting: "Sure thing Apollo! You can go and relax now as I told you to do earlier. You see now that working all the time is not good for you? You ought to listen to me more, my friend! I don't always speak nonsense you know"

Behind him he heard his friends chuckling. He turned around and took a swig of his bottle. "What? I don't!", he repeated defensively.

When the three men had left, les amis turned worriedly towards each other.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected", Feuilly said. "Enjolras getting sick, he never gets sick. Which is weird enough, but seeing him actually get sick seems even weirder, which is weird!" The others looked at him with their brows furrowed.

"You're not making any sense", Marius said. "Besides, Enjolras gets sick, he just does not want to show us. It's is as if he is ashamed to show any weakness. But still I felt like something else was going on. He seemed not really like himself, he was stumbling and there was something about his eyes. He couldn't get them to focus right, or so it seemed to me", the young man added concerned.

"Well, he has both Combeferre and Courfeyrac with him. They won't be easily fooled and they have known Enjolras for years so they will be able to see through his act, should he perform one", Jehan said.

"I agree", Bahorel added. "I don't think we must worry ourselves about that but rather think about what Enjolas told us. I mean, he made it quite clear, he wants us to think about it. No doubt I fear his anger or disappointment more if we fail him. I trust Combeferre and Courfeyrac, now let us focus on the matter at hand."

They all agreed, but inside none of them felt reassured. All were concerned and scared for their friend, and they hoped to get report from either Combeferre or Courfeyrac soon.

Tbc. (_Maybe review? I'd love to hear what you think, good, awful_?)


	4. Chapter 4

The short distance to Enjolras' room seemed to take forever. First Enjolras was trying to keep his own footing, trying to walk with as little help from his friends as necessary. Soon though, he started leaning on them more and more until they were practically carying him al together. His vision was now constantly swimming, so he decided to just keep his eyes closed and let his friends guide him.

Apart from that - _as if i'm wasn't already weak enough_, he thought - he could not suppress the occasional moan or groan everytime the pain in his head spiked or the nausea came back. They've had to stop twice for Enjolras to throw up.

Keeping him steady, so he wouldn't fall over, his friends spoke words of comfort to him. "Don't fight it my friend, if it has to come out, it has to come out."

Pain exploded in Enjolras' head every time he heaved. Black spots dotted his vision and he feared he would pass out again, but he managed to fight it. He couldn't however keep the tears at bay. The intense pain and pressure in his head made them slip right pass his closed eyelids and he hated himself for it.

When the heaving was over, he pressed a trembling hand against his head, trying to relieve some of the pressure and breathed in deeply. "What the hell happened to you today Enjolras? And don't try to feed us your _'i haven't eaten, it's nothing'-story_", Courfeyrac said.

Enjolras merely sighed. "You're kind of scaring us here mate", Combeferre added softly, placing a hand on his friends' shoulder.

Enjolras shook his head. "Don't be scared, I told you, I can handle it. Lets just please move again", he said, although it sounded more like a question or Maybe even a plea.

"You're not handling anything Enj, we're the ones handling you at the moment. You can barely move, you keep your eyes closed all the time. Damn it mon ami, you're in so much pain it even brings you to tears", Courfeyrac said frustrated. He hated seeing is his friend in pain and not knowing why or how.

"'M not crying!, Enjolras snapped, while giving his friend an angry glare. He didn't need this, he didn't need them fussing about him. He was fine.

"I never said you were", Courfeyrac responded. He sighed, looked at Combeferre and then said: "alright, if you're up for it, lets get moving again."

Enjolras nodded and so they started walking the rest of the way to his room.

Arriving at his front door , Enjolras fumbled with the key, but his hands were shaking so bad and he couldn't get his eyes to focus. "Come on, come on", he mumbled. Then the key dropped to the floor and Enjolras slammed his hand against the door. "Damnit!"

Combeferre placed a comforting arm around his friends' unsteady shoulders as Courfeyrac silently reached down to pick up the key. He unlocked the door and they led their young friend inside.

"Thank you, i've got it from here", Enjolras said when he was seated on his bed. "You can go home and i'll see you guys tomorrow at the Café."

Combeferre grabbed one of the chairs, sat down in front of his friend and placed a hand on Enjolras' knee. "Look at me", he said. Enjolras obliged, his eyelids drooped, his face a painful grimace. "Lets hear it", he added while keeping contact with Enjolras' eyes.

"Ferre", Enjolras sighed and he looked down again, wiping a hand down his face.

He didn't want to say anything. He didn't want them to know he got so careless he let himself get hit in the head and then failing to protect the people he gathered there.

The hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly. "What happened today?", Combeferre asked again.

Enjolras looked at Combeferre and then at Courfeyrac, who was leaning against the wall looking back. "I just want to get some sleep, please my friends. I want to lay down, rest my head a bit and I'll be fine in the morning."

Combeferre chose to ignore Enjolras' statement and continued: "does it have something to do with the riot this afternoon?"

"Just answer him Enj! The sooner you start telling the truth, the sooner you'll be able to go to sleep. You are obviously hiding something from us, and it wouldn't be the first time. You always act exactly the same, now is no different. So just spill and we'll be done with it", Courfeyrac said, slightly annoyed by Enjolras' behavior.

"Did you get injured", Combeferre asked, not letting Courfeyrac's impatience distract him. He knew Enjolras better then their leader knew himself and could read him for signs like no other. He searched his friends face , saw the resigned look in his eyes and knew enough.

"Where?", he asked softly. Courfeyrac didn't understand this communication between his two friends. Enjolras hadn't said anything and yet Combeferre seemed to get all the information he needed to make conclusions.

Enjolras finally gave up his act. He sighed and looked at the floor, closing his eyes as if ashamed. "My head", he muttered quietly.

Combeferre nodded. He went to sit down next to Enjolras and reached out. "May I?", he asked, even though he already was. Enjolras didn't look up, he just shrugged.

Combeferre went through his friends blonde mop of curly hair and traced his head lightly until he felt a large bump at the back of his head.

Enjolras hissed and tried to pull back, but Combeferre held him still. He moved around some of the blonde wild hair to get a good look at it. He lightly traced over the bump again and winced in sympathy when Enjolras moaned softly in pain.

"Damn it Enjolras", he cursed softly, "there are still small pieces of glass in it." He was worried but also rather irritated that his friend would want to hide something like that. He figured his friend got hit by some sort of bottle.

"Did you pass out after you got hit?", he asked. Enjolras just nodded. Not trusting his voice anymore and he didn't bother to open his eyes. He felt ashamed.

"How long?" No answer came. "Enjolras, how long?", he asked again.

"I don't know. When I woke up I was propped against a wall along with some other injured people. The guards had come and arrested the robbers, restored the peace and questioned the witnesses all while it was neceasary for me to pass out." His voice was trembling, speaking weaker than he had ever heard himself speak. "What kind of leader am I? Being to careless to notice them creep up on me, letting all those people be in danger, let them get hurt. Who knows what might have happened if the guards hadn't shown up. How weak am I that.."

"Stop this right now Enjolras! How dare you take blame for something like this. How can you? Don't you see how ridiculous that is?", Courfeyrac said angrily. Now sitting on the other side of Enjolras. "There is only one thing you may feel guilty for and that is for pretending to be fine and hiding your injury from us. It pisses me off to no end Enjolras and it is time that you should know that. You may not care much about yourself, but we do!"

He wanted to say more but Combeferre signed for him to quiet down. Courfeyrac's loud voice send send daggers right into Enjolras already aching head.

Combeferre returned his attention back to their injured friend. "Lay down on your stomach for me so I can clean the wound", he ordered gently. Enjolras did as he was told and Combeferre got to work. "You have without a doubt been walking around with a concussion Enjolras, which is not nothing. You've been really lucky so far, you could've slipped into a coma or worse passing out with that knock on the head you got".

He motioned for Courfeyrac to watch Enjolras' face. "Don't let him fall asleep yet", he ordered.

When the wound was cleaned up, he stood from the bed and placed the blankets around his friends' shoulders.

"May I sleep now please, I feel really tired", Enjolras admitted tiredly. He had been fighting this exhaustion ever since he first came to that afternoon.

Combeferre sighed and thought about how much time had passed with Enjolras awake since he got hit on the head. It should be safe for him to get some rest, although the blacking out and the previous heaving worried the medical student.

"You may", he answered, "but I'm staying here and I'll be waking you up every hour or so."

"That really is not necessary 'Ferre. You've treated the wound, I'll be f.."

"If you finish that sentence, I swear I'm gonna hit you Enjolras, broken head or not", Courfeyrac said.

"And I would join", Combeferre added. "You must learn my friend that there is no shame in asking us for help when you obviously need it. What do you thinknfriends are for? What would ou do when the roles had been reversed? There is no shame in getting sick or injured and there is no shame in not being fine all the time."

"For me there is", Enjolras mumbled, barely awake, and with that he let sleep claim him.

Combeferre and Courfeyac remained silent for a bit. "This can't go on 'ferre", Courfeyrac said. "He doesn't care about his wellbeing and he thinks we would see him as a failure should he ask for help or show weakness."

Combeferre nodded. "I know, we must talk to him and the other amis about it. For now, we'll let him rest up. He's gonna have a miserable recovery time ahead of him and he's going to need our help whether he likes it or not."

Courfeyrac then decided to return to the café to report to their friends about Enjolras' condition. They were worried and had every right to know. Combeferre stayed and watched over Enjolras, counting the minutes until he had to wake him up again.

Tbc.

_A longer chapter! Are you happy? Let me know :) _


	5. Chapter 5

Courfeyrac closed the door of Enjolras' room behind him and took a moment to get himself together. He was relieved that Combeferre finally managed to get their friend to tell what had happened to him and it seemed that Combeferre had the situation, medically speaking, under controle.

But Courfeyrac felt as if he was suffocating in the little room. He was so angry and yet so concerned for his friend but had to swallow every word he still wanted to say to their leader, for Combeferre had motioned him to keep it in for the sake of Enjolras' condition.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid", he mumbled frustrated to himself. _Why would he be so stupid_? Enjolras always was the most intelligent person he knew and yet when it came to his own wellbeing - were it physically or mentally - he could be so stupid. "Always wanting to do everything by himself. Unbelievable", he muttered to himself again while shaking his head. He then took a deep breath and started walking towards the café. It was still rather early, so most students would probably still be there.

Combeferre in the meantime couldn't take his eyes of his blonde friend, who was now curled up on his side deeply asleep. He was glad Courfeyrac decided to go to the café. Being always very open in sharing all his emotions and knowing Courfeyrac was very pissed off at the moment, he though it wise that Courfeyrac took some time to get himself together and to calm down. There would be enough time to point Enjolras on his unacceptable '_always-wanting-to-do-everything-by-himself_'-behavior, but now was not it.

He shook his head in frustration and pulled a hand through his hair. "You're unbelievable my friend", he sighed. He couldn't help but think of all kind of scenarios where Enjolras did not wake up any more or where their friend had succeeded in lying to them only to be found dead the next day. _Stop it Combeferre, you found out in time, everything is going to be fine now, you're with him_. "But what if next time I'm not?", he asked out loud.

Enjolras stirred in his sleep but did not wake. _Only good thing about this surreal fear of appearing weak was his continued fight to stay conscious_, Combeferre thought bitterly.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Thirty five minutes left until he would wake his friend up again. He thought about what he knew of the different severities of concussions and which symptoms Enjolras had shown. Dizziness of course, the headaches, the nausea and the passing out, those he knew for sure.

Memory loss? He didn't think so, Enjolras seemed to be able to report of what had happened just fine. Well, not at first of course, when he kept half of it silent.

Mood swings? Up until now he had been pretty much himself.

Trembling, drooping of the eyes, heavy arms and legs? Check, check, check, Combeferre concluded. Disoriented? Maybe a little, but he knew perfectly fine what was going on.

Combeferre counted the symptoms, added a little more weight to them, because he had no doubt Enjolras had managed to hide a few or made them less apparent then they were. _Could have been worse,_ he thought. A severe concussion, no question, but one they could manage. If Enjolras rested enough, wouldn't overdo things and would listen to what his body told him... _But that is one very big if .._

Enjolras was known for his lack of selfcare. He would easily work through the nights or forget to eat. How often hadn't Combeferre himself or the other amis been the ones who had to remind their friend to eat diner or to get some sleep. _Too often_..

He glanced at the clock again. He had left Enjolras asleep for an hour and a half. He stood up, filled a glass of water and walked over to Enjolras' bedside. His friend had pulled the blankets so far up, all Combeferre could see now was the mop of wilde, curly hair. He couldn't help but smile a bit.

He then reached over and shook his friends' shoulder. "Enjolras, wake up", he said gently. "Come on mon ami, wake up for me."

Enjolras grunted and tried to hide further under the covers. "Only for a few minutes Enj, then you can go to sleep again."

Enjolas blinked his eyes open and scowled at his friend. "You are rude you know", he said, "waking me up while you most of the time keep annoying me by telling me to rest."

"I'm just going to ask you a few questions, then you're going to drink some water and then you can sleep again", Combeferre informed Enjolas, keeping his tone as gentle and calm as always.

Enjolras tried to sit up more. "You irritate me", he said and glared at Combeferre. "Telling me what to do, as if I do not know best myself."

Combeferre couldn't suppress a small smile. Mood swings? Check, he thought.

"What's so funny. My misery?", Enjolras asked, eyebrows raised. "God you are mean."

"Are you done?", Combeferre asked. "I'd like to get this over with so you can return to your - suddenly precious - sleep."

Enjolras huffed, then scrunched up his face a little when a wave of pain washed over him and said; "fine, whatever".

"Alright, well, for starters I want you to tell me what date it is today", Combeferre asked.

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding right? Why would that be of any importance?"

Combeferre wasn't in the mood for argueing so instead just said: "humor me".

"Fine, it's the 21st of October", he said. Combeferre nodded and asked another two questions regarding what had happened that day and how they had come to Enjolras' room. The questions were ment to check his memory, which seemed fine, albeit a little blurry.

"How are you feeling?" He then asked, but knew immediately it was the wrong question as Enjolras retorted with his usual "I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much".

Combeferre sighed. "Alright, lets try this another way", he said, "are you experiencing any headaches, dizziness or nausea?"

Enjolras swallowed thickly, seeming to finally come out of his annoyed mood. "Yes", he whispered weakly.

"Scale of one to ten, how bad is the nausea?"

Enjolras breathed in deeply through his nose and answered: "5, maybe 6."

Combeferre looked sceptically but continued. "And the dizziness?"

"S not that bad now, I think 2, maybe lower?", Enjolras answered.

Combeferre nodded and then continued with the one he knew would be highest on the scale. "Headache?"

Enjolras closed his eyes. _Ten_, he thought, _definitely ten if the scale can't go higher._ But he didn't want to admit to that. "4", he whispered.

"For the love of God, Enjolras, do you think I'm that naive?", Combeferre asked angrily, fed up with his friends' charade. "There's no use in giving me false answers here just because you think I would pity you or think less of you if you admit to be in pain. It's just the other way around actually", he added, hoping he wouldn't cross boundaries but feeling it had to be said, "I find you very weak lying to me like that and thinking I would buy it as well and for that I do pity you."

Enjolras opened his eyes, looked at Combeferre and swallowed. "M sorry", he mumbled, feeling ashamed for being the cause of his friends' anger.

Combeferre remained quiet, waiting for Enjolras to give an actual answer to his previous question. Enjolras hesitated for another moment and then said: "on a scale of one to ten, it would have to be ten".

He didn't look at Combeferre as he said this, which hurt the medical student. Did Enjolras really felt so embarrassed for being in pain that he couldn't look his friend in the eye?

"Thank you", he said, his tone gentle again. He then reached for the glass of water and handed it to his friend. "Drink some water, but slowly alright, we don't want you to get sick again, now do we?"

Enjolras turned slightly red and didn't look at Combeferre as he took the glass from him. His hand was shaking badly though and he felt half of it spill over the covers.

He turned a deeper shade of red, looked up almost pleadingly at Combeferre and muttered his apologies.

Combeferre had already reached out and supported the glass only slightly while Enjolras brought it to his mouth. He made sure Enjolras was the one keeping hold of the glass though, knowing his friend already felt ashamed enough and would at least want to be in control of holding a glass by himself.

"Everyone spills, Enj, no need for apologies", he said, squeezing the blondes arm softly with his other hand.

"Alright, you can go to sleep now", Combeferre said while putting away the glass again. Enjolras nodded and turned on his side again, his back turned to his friend.

Combeferre sighed and walked towards the window, watching the black night.

"Thank you 'Ferre'", a soft voice came behind him. Then all was quiet again. Combeferre smiled. For Enjolras to show his genuine gratitude regarding being cared for, was to acknowledge that he wasn't fine. _And that is one big step for him, _Combeferre thought_._

"Always, Enjolras", he answered and then looked at the clock again. He could wait a bit longer this time to wake his friend up again.

Tbc. (_This was a hard chapter for me, my inspiration was lacking. Hope it still turned out okay though! Next chapter will feature more of the other amis, as Courfeyrac is about to tell them of Enjolras' condition_.)


	6. Chapter 6

_I would like to thank all of you who have reviewed this story. It is a great help and dearly appreciated. Keeps me motivated! Also I would like you to know that English isn't my mother tongue, so forgive me if I have been making mistakes :) now on to the story!_

Courfeyrac reached the café in less than ten minutes. Outside he could already hear his friends discussing heatingy. No doubt sharing their theories on Enjolras' sudden passing out.

Courfeyrac thought of his friend again. The anger had abated a little. Now he was mostly worried of what else his friend had hidden from them in the past or might hide in the future. _Even a leader must acknowledge weakness if necessary_ he thought. And Enjolras would agree with him were it the case of any leader but himself. _Greatness comes with those who can acknowledge they are limited in their power, their abilities. To share power and to be able to listen to others is what makes a great leader_. Enjolras had told him something like that only little a year ago. And yet here he was doing the exact opposite. Maybe on different grounds and in less severity than the absolute kings of France, but still.

Courfeyrac shook his head and pushed open the door of the café. He greeted the hostess and made his way upstairs where his friends would be.

"What if he is severely ill! Who then is goig to lead us? Is anyone even up for such a task?", Joly cried.

"He wouldn't be ill, we would have noticed!", Bahorel said dismissively.

"Would we? Enjolras is not one of those people who like to admit they're not at their best", Marius disagreed.

All of les amis were talking - or more like shouting - at the same time. None of them noticed Courfeyrac when he arrived. None of them except Grantaire who was no part of the current heated discussion, but who was seated at a table alone with half an empty bottle of wine.

When he and Courfeyrac made eye contact, he stood, stumbled and nearly fell in his haste to reach his friend.

The noise alerted the other amis and they turned around to see Courfeyrac standing there.

"Courf! You're back, how is he? Is he sick? Is he hurt? Will he be back soon? Where's Combeferre? Is he going to be okay?" All these questions were fired at him and all at once. He blinked at them and then motioned for them to be quiet.

"Well first of", he then said, "I think our leader would be disappointed to find the lot of you discussing his health instead of the cause."

His friends fell silent and he smiled. "But its the exact same thing as I would have done and I think Enjolas would have difficulty himself focusing on the cause if one of his dear friends collapsed and he wouldn't know what was wrong."

"Could you just tell us what happened?", a voice asked silently. Grantaire looked at Courfeyrac through wide eyes. Courfeyrac was a little taken aback by Grantaires expression. He looked horrified, all signs of the cynic he usually was, gone and genuine concern shining in his eyes. His voice trembling slightly and he appeared more sober then he had in a long while.

Courfeyrac nodded and sat down in one of the chairs. "Well, apparently our mighty leader hasn't been completely honest with us when he told us about the riot in the streets this afternoon", he began. "He forgot to mention that he left the place injured. He got hit with a bottle on the back of his head, passed out and only came to when the guards had restored the peace."

"A knock on the head?", Marius asked, "that sounds serious, does Combeferre know how bad it is?"

"First took us an hour for him to spill that little secret. He thought he could handle it an he didn't want to look weak in front of us", Courfeyrac said.

"Big surprise there", sighed Joly annoyed.

Courfeyrac nodded and continued: "when he finally talked, Combeferre examined this large bump on his head. Looked pretty ugly and 'Ferre concluded he had a severe concussion pretty much right away, seeing the symptoms he showed prior."

"The blacking out thing?", Feuilly asked.

"Blacking out, throwing up, headaches, trembling, dizzy", Courfeyrac summed up.

"Okay...but this is something Combeferre can work with right? I mean, Enjolras will be fine?", Jehan stated doubtfully.

"Well, he should be, if he rests up enough and takes it easy for a while", Courfeyrac responded. "But thats not my main concern. What bothers me most is the act that he hid it from us in the first place. I know, he has done this before, but a knock on the head is not the same as a simple cold and it frightens me that he wouldn't let us in on something like that."

"He doesn't want to appear weak, that's typically Enjolras for you", Marius replied.

"Thats what I thought at first as well. And I still do, partly, but there was something else there too. It was as if he was truly ashamed for needing our help. He was embarrased and he couldn't even look me or Combeferre in the eye when he told us what happened. And I don't understand it, why would he be ashamed? We're his friends", Courfeyrac muttered.

"True", agreed Bahorel, "but I don't know Courf. It actually doesn't surprise me that much. We all know that Enjolras doesn't want to appear weak, you just said it yourself."

"I know that mon ami, but that is something different than actually being ashamed for it. appearing weak angers him, sure, he gets annoyed with himself and he acts as if nothing's wrong. But the shame thing, that surprised me.., I don't know how to explain, maybe I'm wrong, but it's just a feeling I have".

"Besides", he added, "when 'Ferre told him there was no shame in getting hurt or needing help, he literally said 'for me there is'. And he sounded so dejected at that point. It sent shivers down my spine."

All amis were silent after that. All in thought and wondering if they shared Courfeyracs feelings.

"Combeferre is still with him?", Marius asked.

"Yes, he stays the night, has to wake Enj up a few times to check up on him and make sure he's alright."

"Should we go to him too?", Feuilly asked.

"No, Enjolras needs rest and if we're all going there telling him this and that and let him know how we feel, he's only going to get stressed and he doesn't need that right now. A few can go tomorrow", Courfeyrac said.

"Well, then that's unfortunate my friend, because I think Grantaire went there as soon as you mentioned the concussion", Joly said.

All amis looked around and indeed found Grantaire to be gone, his half emptied bottle forgotten on the table.

Tbc

_(Once again a hard chapter. I admit, I struggled a lot with this chapter. I found it hard to explain the feelings an thoughts Courfeyrac has regarding Enjolas' behavior. I at least hope you enjoyed it! Let me know :) )_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hi guys! Here's another chapter! Hope you like it. Updating will probably take me a little longer this week, since I am very busy with my studies and work, but I'll try! For now, enjoy another chapter of 'The weakness of being fine' :) _

Grantaire stormed down the streets of Paris. His mind racing, feeling sober all at once. _Severe concussion...kept it from us...weak_. The worry for his friend was replaced by anger, confusion and fear. He needed Enjolras. He needed their leader, if only for his own sanity, his own wellbeing. Without his blonde friend - was he his friend? - he would not know what to do.

He had left the amis the minute Courfeyrac told them what exactly had happened. In his haste to get to Enjolras' appartement he tripped twice over his own feet, but he never stopped running.

"How could he do this? To himself, to his friends. To me? He knows. He knows how much I need him, look up to him, he has to know", Grantaire thought.

Arriving at the building where Enjolras lived, he looked up. Searching for the window he knew was his friends'. There was a light on. _Combeferre is probably still there_, he thought. Running up the stairs, his anger only grew and he was breathing heavily.

When he came to Enjolras' front door, he didn't hesitate. With his fist he pounded on the door. Loudly. "Enjolras! Apollo, open this freaking door!", he shouted, not caring if he was waking the entire building. "Open the door now! You cannot do this, I need to speak with you!"

Combeferre nearly fell of his chair when someone was loudly slamming on the door. "Jesus Christ!", he cursed under his breath. He glanced at the sleeping form in the bed, praying his friend wouldn't wake up, while he run towards the door and damned the fool who was the source of the noise. He already had a presumption it had to be one of their friends who had just found out what happened.

When the shouting started, he knew for sure. "Damn it Grantaire", he growled softly, while unlocking the door. Grantaire tried to push past him the minute he opened up, but Combeferre was prepared for that and blocked the way, pushing Grantaire back and stepping outside himself as well, closing the door behind him.

"I need to speak with him, Combeferre. You need to let me see him", Grantaire spoke angrily.

"Have you completely lost your mind?", Combeferre hissed. "What the hell is the matter with you, shouting like that, making this noise in the middle of the night. You'll wake everyone! You'll wake Enjolras!"

Grantaire blinked, staring at the medical student with wide eyes. "That was actually my intention", he said. "I need to speak with him. He needs to know! He needs to know how stupid he is!" His voice again rising.

"Keep your voice down!", Combeferre whispered furiously. He told Courfeyrac no one was to come tonight. Enjolras needed complete rest, no stress from the outside world. He sighed frustrated.

"You cannot come in Grantaire, not right now", he spoke. And before Grantaire could interrupt him, he continued. "Enjolras is in serious need of complete bedrest. He doesn't need this...whatever you thought you were going to do! I know you're upset and I know you're angry, but it will just have to wait. Besides, don't you think Courfeyrac and myself told him how we felt already?"

"I don't care what you said! I need to speak with him myself!", Grantaire growled, again trying to push past his friend and again finding his way blocked.

"Grantaire! Enjolras knows, alright. He knows he was wrong and he knows we are upset with him and you will get your chance to speak with him as soon as he is feeling up to it. I take it Courfeyrac told you about the concussion?"

"Why do you think I'm here?", Grantaire shouted again. "I came the second he spoke of it"

"Keep your voice down!" Combeferre glared at the cynic. "If you would've listened to Courfeyrac you would have known that I wasn't going to let you, or anyone for that matter, in tonight. Our friend has a severe concussion Grantaire. He is exhausted, he feels miserable and anything that can bring on stress or anxiety can mean a relapse of his condition."

Grantaire remained silent, so Combeferre continued.

"Now I assume you are here and angry because you care for him, am I right?"

Grantaire huffed. "Of course I care! You should know that. Everyone knows that!"

"Then listen to me when I say you cannot come in right now. It's for his own wellbeing Grantaire. And since he lacks the ability to take care of himself at that point, it is our job to do it."

Grantaire looked at the floor, thinking about what Combeferre said. He knew he should listen. He did only want what was best for his Apollo. "I just". He let himself slid on the floor opposite of the door seperating him of Enjolras. "I am just really worried Combeferre. When he collapsed earlier, my world was spinning, my stomach turning, I felt sick with worry!"

Combeferre sat down next to his friend and sighed. "We are were Grantaire and I know you care about him, and Enjolras knows that to, cares about you too, even though he might not always act like it."

Grantaire snorted at that. "Not just that though", he said miserably. "I hate my life, I hate that I always get drunk and I hate that I do not believe in your revolution. And if it weren't for Enjolras, I would've ended it all years ago. He is the only thing keeping me standing, keeping me grounded. He is my exact opposite and for that I need him like I need air. I cannot lose him, for it would mean losing myself."

Combeferre looked at Grantaire, but remained silent, not finding words that fit Grantaires sudden revelation. Then he swallowed and said. "You should tell him that sometime you know, the way you're telling me now, not like you usually do when you're voice is filled with sarcasm and disgust."

Grantaire smiled sadly. "He would not care".

"He would", Combeferre said sternly.

He then stood up and offered his hand to Grantaire to pull his friend up as well. "Go home mon ami, get some rest and try not to worry so much about Enjolras. I am here, I'll make sure he takes care of himself and I won't let him die on you", he said with a small smile. "I'll let you know when he can receive visitors and I'll tell him you came by"

Grantaire took Combeferre's hand and stood. Looking longingly at the door one last time and turned around, starting to make his way downstairs again. "Grantaire!", Combeferre spoke, hoping his his voice wouldn't be too loud. Grantaire turned around again. "You know you can talk to us right? All of us I mean. We're your friends, we care". The drunkard smiled shyly. "Thank you 'Ferre", he said. "And at least tell Enjolras he is stupid", he added with a grin.

"I will do so more than once", Combeferre chuckled.

He then turned around himself and softly opened the door, only to be met by two piercing blue eyes in a too pale face, staring up at him. "Damn it Enjolras", he muttered. "Why the hell are you up?"

"What was that all about? Was that Grantaire?", Enjolras spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His face contorted in a painful grimace

Combeferre grabbed his friend not too gently by the shoulders, steering him back towards the bed. Enjolras felt too weak to put up any sort of resistance and so let himself be pushed down, wincing slightly when his sensitive head connected to the soft pillow.

"Was that Grantaire?", he asked again.

"Yes Enjolras, it was Grantaire, now can you please hold your mouth go back to sleep again?", Combeferre asked, more than a little annoyed that his friend was walking around only hours after being diagnosed with a severe concussion, instead of keeping his rest and lying in bed like he had told him to do.

"What did he want?"

"What do you think Enj? He was pissed off at you and worried out of his mind, now please give me a break and go back to sleep again. We can talk about this tomorrow"

Enjolras blinked slowly and looked at his friend. "I'm awake now, don't you need to ask me your questions, the ones you asked me earlier?"

There was no anger or annoyance in Enjolras' voice, but Combeferre was tired and snapped: "I don't think that necessary since you count yourself healthy enough to disobey me and start walking around as if all is fine!"

Enjolras opened his mouth, but closed it again. A little shocked at his friends' outburst.

"I'm sorry", Combeferre mumbled, closing his eyes for a minute, "I didn't mean it like that, I'm tired and worried and I just need you to rest Enjolras"

His friend nodded, swallowed thickly and turned away from Combeferre, still with that shocked expression that made Combeferre cringe a little inside. I didn't take long for Enjolras to fall back to sleep.

As soon as Enjolras' breathing evened out, Combeferre collapsed in a chair and laid his head on the table. "I'm getting too old for this", he mumbled. He then sat up again and started working on his studies just to keep himself awake in case Enjolras needed him. They would talk tomorrow, if he was up to it. Everything would be fine.

TBC.

_(Another chapter done and I feel great! I'm really enjoying writing this story. Hope you are enjoying it as well. Let me know! Reviews make me update faster, haha)_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello there my dear, dear fellow Les Miserables fans :) Thank you all again for the lovely reviews, follows and favorites. Means a lot to me, it really does! I'm so glad you seem to appreciate my writing. You make my day. Enjoy another chapter of 'The weakness of being fine'!_

Enjolras woke up to the distant murmering of voices. Paris was waking up, people were making their way to another long day of work or, for the less fortunate, another day of begging the rich ones to spare them something - anything. He wished he could have remained asleep.

He reluctantly opened his eyes, but immediately regretted doing so. The light hit his eyes and sent straight knives to his head. His stomach turned and he swallowed convulsively. Feeling much worse than the day before, he let out a small moan and squinted his eyes closed again.

It didn't help however. Something was swirling around aggressively in his stomach and was only waiting to make its way up and out. Refusing to throw up all over himself and his bed, Enjolras opened his eyes again. He spotted Combeferre at his table. His head on top of books and articles, fast asleep.

Enjolras took a few deep breathes, fighting the urge hurl. Hating to do so, but knowing his friend would want him to, he tried to wake him. "'Ferre", his voice a hoarse whisper, too silent for Combeferre to hear. The blonde leader closed his eyes again for a second, breahting fast and load. "Ferre!", he said again, louder this time.

Combeferre however, remained oblivious to the world around him. Enjolras blinked fast, thinking over his possibilities. If he couldn't wake his friend, than his only other choice was getting up himself and making sure he was near something more acceptable than his bed where he could let his stomach do the inevitable.

Pushing himself in a sitting position, the nausea only got worse. His vision was spinning along side of his stomach and he had to push his head between his knees. His hands pressed against his temples, a desperate attempt to keep his head from exploding. "Please", he muttered silently, although he had no idea who he was pleading to.

Combeferre was just starting to wake up in the meantime. He had momentarily forgotten where he was and why he lay atop of books and notes. When he looked up however and was met with the image of his young friend huddled at the edge of his bed, making all kinds of miserable sounds, everything came rushing back to him.

In his haste to get to his friends' side, he knocked over the chair he was sitting on, which then fell to the floor with a loud smack. The sound caused Enjolras to groan and shudder, no longer able to keep the gagging at bay.

Combeferre cursed his own carelessness and reached for the bucket he had placed near the bed the previous evening, just in case. He made it to his friend just in time for him to lose his stomachs' content.

Combeferre placed himself next to Enjolras on the bed, rubbing his back in a desperate attempt to give his friend some comfort during this undoubtedly painful experience.

Painful would have been an understatement. The pain exploding in Enjolras' head as soon as he started heaving, was beyond excruciating. He forgot where he was, he forgot who was with him. He felt tears of misery slip through his closed eyes and heard himself make all kinds of wretched sounds in between the rounds of his retching. He couldn't help but wish wish he would just die already.

When his stomach decided it had thrown out enough and the nausea had abated a little, Enjolras became aware of a solid weight pressed next to him, a comforting hand rubbing his back and a soft, gentle voice soothing him.

Combeferre. He knew.

"It's okay, mon ami, deep breathes, the worst is over. Try to relax a little, as much as you can"

Enjolras breathed in deeply, as he was told, and let himself lean against his friend. He felt exhausted, he couldn't remember ever being in more pain then he was right now, but the knowledge that his friend was there with him, ready to catch him should he fall, able to sooth the hardest edges of pain, was enough for him to relax into Combeferre's chest.

They sat like that for a few minutes. Combeferre kept up his steady, gentle words of comfort, for they seemed to set Enjolras at peace at least a little. He noticed Enjolras was keeping his eyes shut the entire time and when he asked him to open them up and look at him, Enjolras only shook his head weakly.

"Hurts too much 'Ferre", he sighed dejectedly.

Combeferre understood at once. The light. The rays of sunlight streaming through the window were too much for his friend to bare at this moment. That didn't surprise him much of course. A concussion would do that for you.

He slowly let go of his friend, making his way to stand up, but Enjolras tried to withhold him, to keep him near, not wanting to lose that only part of comfort and pain release that his friend seemed to provide.

"I'll be right back my friend, I'm only going to shut the windows for the sound and the curtains to keep out the light", he spoke reassuringly.

Combeferre stood, walked towards the windows of the small appartement and did as he told Enjolras he would do. He then picked up the bucket Enjolras had used and put it near the front door, away from his friend. He looked back worriedly. Enjolras seemed much worse then earlier. "Not uncommon in a condition like his", he thought, "but I still do not like it."

After both the outside noise and light were blocked out, Enjolras seemed to visibly relaxe a little more. Combeferre made his way back to his friend and crouched down in front of him. Enjolras still would not open his eyes, but did raise his head slightly.

"Lets get you more comfortable, shall we?", he said softly, while gently pushing Enjolras in a lying position. He pulled the covers up again and let his hand linger on the blondes shoulder.

It was then that Enjolras finally looked at him through half-open eyes. They looked at each other for a moment before Enjolras spoke.

"I should have told you sooner", he stated.

Combeferre let out a chuckle. "Well that would have been the wiser thing to do, mon ami, although I doubt it would have made any difference in the way you're feeling"

Enjolras didn't return the smile. He frowned. "I apologise", he then whispered.

Combeferre only nodded.

He watched as his friend scrunched up his face, the pain in his head obviously spiking again. He opened his eyes again after the sudden flaring pain subsided again

"I owe you an explanation, I know I do and I want to tell you, although I admit I do not like to talk about it", he said, his breath hitching a couple times in between. "It has nothing to do with you, but everything to do with me, my past and my family. I've never actually been allowed to appear weak you know."

Combeferre frowned. Enjolras never talked about his past. He only knew bits and pieces of Enjolras' childhood and he knew he didn't keep in touch with his family any more. Not after his mother passed away a few years ago. That had been one of the few times, maybe the only time, he had seen Enjolras break down and seek comfort with himself and Courfeyrac. He didn't get along with his father, all their friends knew that, but they all figured that was only based on political grounds. Combeferre started to doubt that now, seeing the serious expression Enjolras wore while speaking of his past.

He watched as Enjolras struggled forming his words. The pain clouding his mind and memory. He had closed his eyes again and when he opened them and looked up at Combeferre, they were shining with grieve and pain. "I do not know if I can tell you now", he mumbled softly. "I want to, but I want do be able to do so when I feel more like myself again and not like this."

Combeferre squeezed his shoulder and nodded. "It can wait my friend", he offered.

Enjolras nodded his thanks. "Grantaire was here last night?", he asked, although it was more a statement. "Was he alright?"

"Not quite", Combeferre answered, "He was really worried about you. I've actually never seen him in a state like that. He was angry and upset but yet sad, almost depressed at the same time. He told me some things you know, which are not my place to be discussing right now, but I think you should talk with him privately when you feel better. I think you both have things to tell the other in order to understand the behavior you show each other."

Enjolras frowned, not really understanding what Combeferre said, but feeling a spike of worry towards Grantaire.

Combeferre smiled sadly at him. "I think there will be a lot of talking the upcoming few days, but for now let's leave it at this. You're in pain and I think it would be best for you to try and get some more sleep."

Enjolras' eyes were already drooping and for once he didn't go against Combeferre's suggestion. He nodded weakly and let his eyes fall closed. He didn't hear the soft knock on the door anymore, only minutes later.

Combeferre stood and opened up. In the dooropening stood Courfeyrac, looking a little pale and exhausted himself. He didn't look like had had any sleep. "Has Grantaire been here 'Ferre?", he asked silently, after he had informed about Enjolras' condition. "He was suddenly gone and I feared he would go here."

Combeferre nodded. "He has, waking up everything and everyone in the process", he said, glancing at Enjolras for a second, "but I got him to calm down and to go home. I suspect he is at his own home, right now."

Courfeyrac sighed relieved. Then looked up at Combeferre. "You look like you could use some sleep", he suggested. He got a sceptical look in return. "Look who is talking", Combeferre retorted. He then shook his head, admitting fearing falling to go to sleep again after what had happened earlier. "I only made it just in time", he said.

Courfeyrac smiled. "You did make it though. I'll tell you this, let's keep watch over our friend here in shifts. You go to sleep now, if only for a few hours, and I will watch over him. When you wake up, I'll go to sleep and you watch him."

Combeferre agreed. It seemed like a good idea. Although he was reluctant to leave his friends' side, he knew Enjolras would want him to get some rest as well. He didn't tell Courfeyrac of what Enjolras had started to tell him earlier about his family. He figured it was a story for now only meant for Combeferre to be heared.

He offered Courfeyrac his chair and made his way to the small but comfortable sofa in the corner of the room. He watched as he saw Courfeyrac take hold of Enjolras' hand and mumble something softly, pushing the strands of hair away from their friends' sleeping face. He then smiled, knowing his friend would be in good hands and he could allow himself to get some sleep.

TBC.

_(Another chapter done! Hope you're happy with it :) Grantaire will feature more, I promise you all, but this story mainly is about Combeferre and Enjolras and the close bond they share. Please review, I would love to hear what you think! Is the story still interesting? Are you curious about Enjolras' past? Let me know!)_


	9. Chapter 9

_(Hey there my dear friends! It took me a little longer to update this, I was having a sort of writers block. I surely hope the chapter is good enough and I hope you like it. I would hate to disappoint all of my faithful reviewers, followers and favorit'ers (is that a word?) Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!)_

When Combeferre made his way to the sofa to get some rest, Courfeyrac made himself comfortable in the chair next to Enjolras' bed. He reached for his hand, holding it gently, as a comfort to himself that his friend was okay, considerately.

It didn't take long for Combeferre's breathing to even out. Courfeyrac threw an amused look his way when he began snoring softly. "Yes, snore away my friend", he chuckled silently, before focusing on the blonde in front of him again.

He sat like that for quite a while, just watching and thinking. Thinking about what had happened and about what he could say on it to Enjolras. Then his thoughts travelled back to earlier times, when they were only just developing their ideals and putting them into plans. Courfeyrac sighed and mumbled softly: "You allowed yourself some fun then once in a while, you never do now anymore."

He understood though. He knew why Enjolras wanted to avoid anything that wasn't related to the cause. Their ideals and dreams now had formed into concrete plans and Enjolras had dedicated his whole life to it. He lived for the Republic, for the people and for the Revolution to make said Republic possible. He never lived for himself anymore.

Of course, all Les Amis were dedicated, except perhaps for Grantaire, but still, they allowed themselves to relax after a meeting or demonstration. Enjolras did not. He was always working, causing him to sometimes forget about the basic necessities of life, such as sleep or food. Yes, Enjolras was terrible at selfcare, everyone knew. Even Enjolras himself had to know that.

Courfeyrac was so deeply plunged in thought that he did not notice Enjolras waking up and looking at him. He startled when he heard a soft voice say: "I can't believe you actually got him to go and get some sleep." Enjolras' blue eyes shifted from Combeferre on the sofa back to Courfeyrac.

"Well, I would hate for him to start looking as terrible as you are looking right now. Even your godlike features don't seem to do anything for you at this point."

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "Shut up", he mumbled. His hand was still locked in that of Courfeyrac. Neither of them seemed to want to let go, both content and comfortable enough to keep the small contact.

"How are you feeling?" Courfeyrac asked silently, face serious although not able to add a small joke, "Or am I being a complete fool asking you that since I probably already know what your answer is going to be."

Enjolras couldn't suppress a small grin. He was silent for a bit, and then answered truthfully: "Like I've been hit in the head by an anvil, while floating at a nauseatingly wild sea."

Courfeyrac's eyebrows went up as high as they could, disappearing under the mop of thick, curly brown hair. His eyes widened a little and he feigned a surprised gasp.

"I am aghast! Is the mighty Enjolras actually telling me he is not fine? You must indeed have been knocked over by an anvil!"

Enjolras glared at his friend through slitted eyes. "You're hilarious", he retorted dryly.

Courfeyrac laughed heartily. "Oh come on Enjolras, you had that one coming."

Enjolras look turned neutral, maybe a little sad even. "I know", he mumbled, "And I am sorry for that. I've also already told Combeferre that. I know it must have been very frustrating, it's just…I can't help it…I don't want to be in need of any help…I just..."

Courfeyrac observed his friend's word struggle with worry. He seemed a little different somehow, opening up more. "It's okay", he then said, squeezing his hand softly, "although I don't really understand why Enjolras. Why are you so reluctant to ask for help? We are your friends, we care for you and we would never think less of you, you know that right?"

"I do", Enjolras answered, looking at the sofa where a hardly awake Combeferre was now sitting upright listening at the conversation his two friends where having, "And I already promised Combeferre an explanation of sorts and I'd like for you to hear it as well if you wish to."

Courfeyrac nodded and turned to look at Combeferre, who had grabbed another chair and now had joined the other two.

"Are you feeling up to it right now though Enjolras?" Combeferre asked gently. "It can wait, I already told you that."

Enjolras shook his head. "I fear that I won't be telling you at all if not now. It's not something I like to talk about. And I do feel better than before, really, I do 'Ferre", he assured his old friend.

"Alright then", Combeferre nodded and he looked Enjolras in the eyes. "We're all ears."

The blonde man took a deep breath and averted his eyes, instead looking somewhere in the distance. "I've never told you much about my childhood, simply because I really don't like to think about it, let alone speak of it. It wasn't exactly happy. As you know, I'm an only child, my parents have always been wealthy and so I grew up in luxury. Well, in a materialistic way of speaking. My mother was always great to me, you know, she was kind, just and she loved me unconditionally and it still hurts me to know that she is gone."

He paused and swallowed, thinking how he would continue his story, finding it even harder than he imagined it would be.

"My father and I never got along. And by never, I actually mean never. My earliest memories of him are images of his hateful looks or angry shouts. I have never been able to please him, not in the slightest. He didn't like how I looked; I was too skinny, too blonde, not nearly manly enough for his liking. Ever since I can remember I tried to be good enough in his eyes. I did what everything he asked of me. I ate more than I could, just to gain some weight, I studied until I passed out above my work, just so that he would think me worthy of talking to. It was never enough though and it kept getting worse. He hated me most when I got hurt or sick and when I was in need of caring, which my mother always gladly did for me. My father however would come into my room, and sneer at me how I could ever be worthy of him if I could not even fight off a little fever, or if a 'broken bone' would have me bedridden for a week. He abused me mentally, telling me he was disgusted to have such a weak son as myself."

He paused again, looking down, his breath hitching slightly. Courfeyrac and Combeferre remained silent, giving their friend all the time he needed to collect himself and continue his story.

"The mental abuse turned physical not long after that. I think I was eleven, maybe twelve years old, when he started hitting me. He was usually drunk when he did that – you can guess where my disgust for Grantaire's drinking problem comes from – and I would let him, which only made him more angry and his beating more aggressive. I made the mistake to tell my mother once. She got furious with him, shouted and threatened to take me and leave. My father promised her he wouldn't, but he did, telling me that if I ever told my mother again, he would make us both pay. And so I stayed silent, and he hit me in places my mother wouldn't be able to see. You can understand that I grew up building walls around me, trying to create a place for myself where no one could hurt me. Voicing my weakness would only result in a round of beating or waterfall of insults. So I did not speak anymore when I got hurt. I bore it in silence, handling it on my own. I learned to never ask for help considering my own wellbeing. And of course, when I grew older and stronger, I fought back, verbally and physically. Growing up in my father's care somehow made me a stronger person; I learned to stand on my own two feet. I stayed out longer, refusing to return home sometimes for days and I got acquainted with the way of life of the people, which made me develop my political beliefs. Well you can imagine that was the last straw for my father. He now not only had a skinny, weak and worthless son; no, said son now decided to stand up for a people below their status."

Enjolras chuckled darkly. "The night I voiced my beliefs to him…" He closed his eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose and sniffing softly. Both Courfeyrac and Combeferre could only imagine what had happened that night. It must have been horrible if it drove Enjolras away from his mother, who he cared for more than anything. "That was the night I left home and moved to Paris. I was fourteen then, almost fifteen", Enjolras continued. "I still don't really know how I managed that, my body was broken and battered, but I did make it and I could start a new life, met new friends who appreciated me and got the chance to build something for myself and I found something to fight for."

He then looked at both his friends. " I know it might not really be an explanation for my behavior. I mean, I did manage to move past the horrors of my childhood and I do believe I'm a much stronger person than my father would ever give me credit for, but, well, the truth is that I have grown up building walls around me. I don't like to let people in, you both know that and the whole appearing weak situation…", the trailed off, shaking his head. "It grew on me; it is a way of acting which I've become so accustomed to that I don't know how to react differently. And I'm sorry for that, for I know I cause you and the other Amis too much worry."

The three friends sat silently by each other after Enjolras' story, all plunged in thought. Courfeyrac never let go of Enjolras' hand; he had hold tight during the whole story. Combeferre was the first to break the silence.

"Thank you", he whispered, "I've known you ever since you just came here and I've always known you were a boy with a troubled past and I know how hard it is for you to talk about this." Combeferre remembered the first time he met Enjolras. Three years younger than himself, broken and bruised, stumbling through the streets of Paris, looking for a place to spend the night. He had himself only just moved to Paris to start his studies and he was the one to nurse Enjolras back to health. They had been close friends ever since.

Enjolras looked Combeferre in the eyes and smiled slightly. A look that shared more than words ever could. A look infused with gratitude, understanding, friendship and love.

"I'm so sorry Enj", Courfeyrac spoke silently, "I never knew, I mean, I knew you and your father weren't close, but I'd never imagined something like this. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't know."

Enjolras gently squeezed the hand still lying in his own. "I don't need pity Courf, I've given it a place and I told you I've moved past it, and I did, I promise. You couldn't have known, believe me, I know I'm not an easy man to read." He smiled.

Courfeyrac snorted. "That you indeed are not."

They fell silent again.

"I would appreciate it if this could stay between us", Enjolras whispered weakly, eyes closed again and a hand pressed against his temples. The ever present headache making itself known persistently. "Is that alright?"

"Neither of us have any right to spread your story Enjolras, so if you wish for us to stay silent about it, of course we will", Combeferre said.

Enjolras nodded his thanks and then said: "I assume you're going to order me to go to sleep again 'Ferre, but before you do, is it possible for me to get something to eat and drink? I'm actually starving."

Both Combeferre and Courfeyrac smiled and obliged.

"And as long as you both are here, determined to watch me sleep, do me a favor and clean something up, make yourself useful, prepare a speech or go to sleep yourself, anything", Enjolras tried a stern look which only caused his friends to shake their heads and grin.

"Whatever blondie, you are in no condition ordering us around like that. But, if you think you are, you better get some rest and prepare yourself for the wrath of Les Amis. They're all anxious to see you and to give you a piece of their mind and believe me, they will be doing that as soon as you are indeed feeling better", Courfeyrac told his friend.

"Oh joy, I can't wait", Enjolras mumbled sleepily. He then turned on his side, closed his eyes and was asleep within seconds.

Both Combeferre and Courfeyrac's faces turned serious after their friend was asleep. Courfeyrac took a deep breath and then said darkly : "Well, that was quite the story. I sure hope to meet monsieur Enjolras senior one day. Give him a piece of my mind."

Combeferre said nothing, only nodded his agreement as he watched his friend sleep.

TBC.

_(Well, took some time, but there you have it. A longer chapter and hopefully a chapter you are content with J Next chapter will feature the Amis visiting Enjolras and of course the talk Grantaire and Enjolras are about to have. Please let me know what you think, I really appreciate it)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks again everybody for your very kind reviews! I feel all warm and fuzzy inside :) They mean so much to me. Hope you like this next chapter! Enjoy :)_

Combeferre had decided to allow those of the Amis who wished to, to come visit Enjolras in shifts. The blonde revolutionary had spent two nights and a day sleeping, resting and he did everything Combeferre had told him. Now, as he was starting to feel a little better, he wished to see his friend and assure them all was fine.

The headaches had abated a bit and the nausea and vertigo only showed up when Enjolras made too sudden movements or when he had to get out of bed to do his needs. All with the help of his best friend. All. To Enjolras' embarassement at some point.

Courfeyrac had spent most of his time at Enjolras' place as well. Being the only ami Combeferre allowed in, he helped wherever he could. Neither of the three friends had spoken about what Enjolras had told them earlier, although Combeferre still had some questions he wanted Enjolras to answer. He felt it would do his friend good to talk about it more, but he decided it could wait until Enjolras was back on his feet.

"Who do I have to encounter first?", Enjolras asked amused, as he shifted his pillows so that he could sit upright. He was dressed in fresh and comfortable clothes, looking very awake and calm, but still too pale for Combeferre's liking.

"Ah, I think Courfeyrac is bringing Jehan, Marius and Joly in at first and then Bahorel, Feuilly and Grantaire. Gavroche wanted to see you as well but I'd rather not have him in here yet. It would be too crowded."

Enjolras nodded and looked down at his hands. "They're not really that mad at me are they?" He asked, his tone a bit nervous, "I mean, I'm doing fine now, better all the time, so."

He trailed of, looking hopefully up to Combeferre, who couldn't help but let an amused smile spread on his face.

"Feeling a bit nervous there, oh mighty leader?" Enjolras sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes.

"Never mind", he said.

Combeferre laughed and put a hand on Enjolras' shoulder. "Don't worry mon ami, they'll behave. I told them not to make too much fuss regarding your condition. Besides, I think they're more worried than angry."

"Well, you can't blame me for worrying, if Courfeyracs and especially Grantaires reactions are anything to go by", Enjolras mumbled, remembering Grantaires angry pounding and yelling two nights before.

"And you can't really blame them for being furious in the first place", Combeferre added, winking at Enjolras.

His blonde friend chuckled and muttered that that was indeed true. He opened his mouth to say more but their conversation was cut short by a knock on the door.

Enjolras looked up and took a deep breath. "Good luck my friend", Combeferre said, feigning a goodbye.

"You're awful", Enjolras retorted, watching as Combeferre opened the door.

Marius, Jehan and Joly greeted Combeferre and then walked in silently, almost anxiously, their eyes falling shortly on Enjolras, who was looking at them, eyebrows raised. He hadn't expected his friends to act like this.

"You may come closer you know", he said smiling, "I'm not going to bite you."

They looked at Combeferre, who nodded reassuringly.

"We weren't sure how you were feeling, Courfeyrac told us to keep our quiet", Marius mumbled.

"Yes, and besides I thought it was too early for you to have any company at all with a concussion such as yours, who knows what we can bring about, we wouldn't want to be any obstacle in your recovery", Joly said, worry evident on his face, "But if Combeferre says it's okay, then..."

He trailed off, glancing at Enjolras who was still looking at them with that surprised expression.

"Seriously my friends, stop acting scared around me, I'm doing fine, believe me, Combeferre wouldn't have let you in if I weren't"

"That's true", Jehan said, being the first to walk towards Enjolras' bed and flopping down beside him on the bed. "You, my friend, have some explaining to do however".

"Unless you don't feel up to it", Joly added quickly.

Enjolras cleared his throat and glanced at Combeferre momentarily. "There's honestly not much to explain", he began.

"I didn't think it was such a big deal in the beginning. I just had a headache and I felt a bit dizzy but I honestly thought I could handle it, untill I passed out in the middle of my speech which you all have observed of course."

His friends nodded, having not forgotten that moment at all. It was still very fresh in their memory.

"Anyway, after that I got nervous, because I knew something had to be wrong but I didn't want you to know. I felt like, as being a leader I could not let you all down and I feel very reluctant in admitting I'm not feeling well."

Marius snorted at that. "We know that Enjolras, but we don't understand how you can think that you being ill or hurt would result in us thinking less of you. That's kind of offensive you know."

" I do know", Enjolras agreed, "and it's a weakness entirely my own. I've been doing that ever since I was a child, it's just who I am and I've talked about it with Combeferre and Courfeyrac and I know my behavior in situations like this one is not acceptable, so I apologize to you all and I'll try to do differently next time."

"I'd rather not have there be a next time", Jehan mumbled, but he smiled and all three friends seemed to relax more after that. Talking and laughing about other things. When Marius brought up the riot and the subject of their previous meeting however, Combeferre interrupted.

"That's it for now guys, the others will be here soon and honestly I don't want Enjolras to talk or even think about that. He'll work himself up again and before you know it, he'll be up and roaming the streets trying to convince people to do what's right."

Everyone laughed at that, except Enjolras, who wore a serious expression and muttered that that was indeed exactly what he would do had he not been held prisoner by Combeferre.

"Keep your head up, Enjolras", Jehan laughed, "Just try to be an outstanding patient for a while, if only to please Combeferre here and you'll be up and running in no time."

They said their goodbye's and Combeferre let them out.

He turned around again to look at his blonde friend. "That wasn't so bad now was it?" he asked.

Enjolras nodded. "Thank you for not telling them. I know you probably hated that I fed them this uncomplete story, but I just..."

Combeferre cut him of. "We promised you we wouldn't tell. And you don't have to thank me for it either. It's your choice to keep your past to yourself. To decide what you want them to know and what not. Besides, that story wasn't far from the truth now was it. You only left out some of the details."

Enjolras only smiled, but it didn't meet his eyes. He felt tired and his head hurt again. He wasn't really looking for the next round of visitors, especially not to Bahorel and Grantaire who would without a doubt still be angry.

He was partly proven right when the other amis came by a little later that afternoon. It was just Bahorel and Feuilly however. Grantaire didn't show up, which surprised Enjolras, but Combeferre even more, regarding the scene he had made only two nights before. He had asked Courfeyrac to look for him as soon as the other two friends had settled in chairs next to Enjolras' bed. Courfeyrac left immediately, worried himself.

Bahorel was beyond irritated and not at all pleased by Enjolras' explanations and apologies. He kept telling his friend he was stupid and that he would have to prove himself before he would believe any of his promises. He accused him of being weak just because of hiding in the first place and thinking lesser of him because he had kept his mouth shut.

"I'm really disappointed in you Enjolras! How could you not tell, you don't deem us worthy to know or something? You don't trust us? What, we don't mean that much to you?"

It didn't take long for Enjolras to get annoyed with Bahorel as well. When he said he was done explaining and that he really could care less if Bahorel accepted his reasons, the latter left the room without a word. Enjolras stared after him in utter disbelieve. Feeling hurt himself that he caused his friend to be this angry.

"He'll turn around Enj", Feuilly spoke softly. "He was just really worried and he felt hurt that you didn't trust us enough to confide in us, while you always press us to be completely honest with each other"

"I do trust you", Enjolras mumbled, "I told you it's not that." He looked at Combeferre for support.

"Then what is it?", Feuilly asked.

Enjolras sighed. "It's just how I grew up okay, I've always kept to myself concerning my health. It's behavior I've come accustomed to. I've aplogized for it, now haven't I?"

Feuilly nodded, sensing Enjolras didn't want to talk about it anymore. Combeferre seemed to agree with him when he spoke up. "Let's not go on about this anymore. It's giving our patient here more stress than is good for him. I'll have Courfeyrac talk to Bahorel later today. He'll turn around Enjolras, you'll see. Just let him be for now, he has a right to be angry, he cares for you."

Enjolras sighed and frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose. The headache that started out as a low pounding in the back of his head was now taking over fully.

Combeferre noticed and told Feuilly it was time for him to go home. Feuilly nodded, squeezed Enjolras' arm and said his goodbye. "Rest up my friend. I'll see you soon."

When Combeferre and Enjolras were alone again, Enjolras relaxed a bit more. "He is so angry", Enjolras mumbled.

Combeferre nodded. "You expected as much though, didn't you?"

"I did", Eniolras answered, letting Combeferre place a wet cold cloth on his forehead. He closed his eyes for a bit in relieve.

"I don't understand why Grantaire didn't show up though", he then said, "I expected him to be here, since he was all worked up earlier.

Combeferre nodded.

"He's probably too drunk to visit", Enjolras said with a tone of reprimand. Although there was definitely also some disappointment there.

"Don't do that", Combeferre replied sternly, yet gently.

Enjolras opened his eyes and looked at Combeferre.

"Assuming that's the reason he isn't here I mean", Combeferre added. "He was genuinely concerned about you."

"And yet he isn't here, so it must not have been that genuine", Enjolras retorted.

"Stop it", was all Combeferre said. They looked at each other and Enjolras shook his head.

"Fine, I'm sorry", he muttered, "I just really expected him to be here. I wanted him to be here", he added quietly.

"He'll come." Combeferre smiled reassuringly.

-

Courfeyrac in the meantime had arrived at Grantaires appartement. He pounded on the door and when he heard shuffling inside he called: "Grantaire! I know you're in there. Open the door, I need to speak with you."

It took a while, but then Grantaire unlocked the door and stepped aside to let Courfeyrac in. "What is it?"

"You know perfectly well what it is. Why weren't you at Enjolras'? I told you, you could visit together with Bahorel and Feuilly and you didn't show!"

Grantaire looked down. "So?"

"So? Two nights ago you stood there fuming on his doorstep demanding to speak with him. What? Now you don't have anything to say to him anymore?"

"I don't really see the point. Everything has already been said and I'm the last one he would listen to. He is probably relieved I didn't come. He wouldn't want me to."

"Don't be ridiculous 'Taire", Courfeyrac retorted frustrated. "He does want to see you and he does want to speak to you. You know he woke up while you were there? Would've bolted for the door to go after you had it not been for his disorientation and Combeferre being present."

Grantaire turned red. "He woke up? He heard?"

"I don't know what he heard but yes he woke up and Combeferre told him you would come today along with the other amis and now here you are, sitting around, not showing up, what do you think Enjolras is going to think?"

"He can't think any lower of me"

"He's gonna think you don't care. Don't make him think that 'Taire, it's all hard enough as it is"

Grantaire frowned at that. Not really understanding what Courfeyrac meant by that. He sat down on the bed and then said: "I'm afraid to go. He'll won't want to speak with me, I'll say all the wrong things, I'll get mad, he'll get mad, I know how this will go".

"No you don't. And if you don't go there, you're going to regret it. He needs you 'taire. He needs to know you're there for him, just as much as the other amis."

He took the bottle of wine out of Grantaire's hand and put it down on the table. "Now, no more drinking. Go and dress yourself and then we'll go to Enjolras. I won't leave here until you come."

Grantaire looked as if he was going to refuse. Then he turned around and picked out some clean clothes. "Fine", he mumbled, "I'll go."

Courfeyrac smiled and patted his friend on the back. "You don't have to worry so much you know", he laughed, "he's not going to bite you."

"How do you know?", Grantaire replied, "you've never angered him the way I do."

"Well, now he has angered you, so you can do the biting", Courfeyrac winked.

"Shut up", Grantaire chuckled. Inside his stomach was in knots. He did want to see Enjolras, he truely did, but he was afraid to as well.

TBC.

_(There you go. Did you like it? I really hope so! Let me know if you have anything to say! :) And be on the lookout for the next chapter. It will be mainly focused on Grantaire and Enjolras and I just know the lot of you have been waiting for it. Just so you know, this story is only based on a friendship between the two. 'Till next time!)_


	11. Chapter 11

_(Hi everyone! Again I thank all of you who have been reviewing, following or favoriting this story. I can't express enough how much it means to me. This chapter focuses mainly on Grantaire and Enjolras and their relationship. I really hope you will enjoy it, because it is one of the chapters I worked hardest for. Please let me know what you think! Enjoy)_

The visits from his friends had taken a lot out of Enjolras. He was tired and had just started to doze off when there was a soft knock on the door. Enjolras watched Combeferre with sleepy eyes as he walked to the door and opened up.

"Look what I brought with me", came the joviant voice of Courfeyrac. "Can we come in or is our patient already asleep?"

_We? Who would be with Courfeyrac then?_ Enjolras asked himself. He automatically sat up straighter, stretching his neck trying to see the door.

"If he is, please don't wake him for my benefit", came a soft voice.

Grantaire. Enjolras knew at once. Before Combeferre could answer and before Enjolras had thought about if he really was feeling up to a visit from his friend, he called out. "I am not sleeping".

Combeferre opened the door and let both of his friends in. Grantaire kept looking at the floor, shuffling in softly. His whole posture shouting he didn't really want to be here. Combeferre shared a concerned look with Courfeyrac, who only shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

There was an awkard silence for a minute before Grantaire spoke up.

"Hey there Apollo", he said, trying a grin that never reached his eyes.

Enjolras frowned, too taken aback by Granaire's unexpected, almost shy behavior that he actually forgot to speak.

He then cleared his throat, blinked back his confusion and said: "decided to come by after all huh?"

There was no real anger in Enjolras' voice, but Grantaire still flinched, looking back at the floor, fumbling the clean shirt he wore with his fingers.

Courfeyac interrupted the silence by suggesting he and Combeferre go for a stroll outside while "these two" could talk for a bit.

Both patient and drunkard looked up shocked. Neither really looking forward to being alone with each other.

Combeferre seemed reluctant too at first, but then remembered what Grantaire had told him that night he came looking for Enjolras and he decided it would indeed be best to let these two be alone for a little while.

"Yes", he said, nodding and putting on his jacket, "I think I could use some fresh air, been locked up in here with this stubborn boy here for nearly two whole days and nights."

Enjolras frowned. "Very funny", he said dryly, watching both Courfeyrac and Combeferre step out the door.

"We won't be too long", Combeferre called back and then the door closed and there was silence once again.

Enjolras looked at Grantaire, who was still standing in the middle of the room looking anywhere but at Enjolras. The blonde took a breath and then said calmly "you can sit down you know." He motioned to the chair next to his bed which had last been occupied by Combeferre.

"Uh, oh yes, of course", Grantaire mumbled, taking a seat next to his Apollo's bed, eyes fixed on the hands in his lap.

Enjolras didn't understand this Grantaire. He had never seen him like this, at a loss for words, nervous and clearly uncomfortable.

"Are you okay?", he asked.

This caused Grantaire to look up surprised. "Me? Yes, I'm fine, why are you asking? You're the one with a broken head you know."

"I know. But I call to remember you pounding at my front door and yelling at Combeferre to let him in just so you could give me a piece of your mind. And now you're sitting there saying nothing, not looking at me. Not even showing up had it not been for Courfeyrac to come and get you... You can't blame me for being confused here."

Grantaire looked away again and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what to say to that.

"Aren't you mad at me anymore? Because it's not surprising if you are. I've had some angry Amis visit me today already and frankly I had expected the same from you."

"No", Grantaire said quietly.

"No, what?" Enjolras replied sharply. He didn't know how to interact with this timid version of his friend and to be honest, it was kind of frustrating.

"No, I'm not mad anymore", Grantaire said. He cleared his throat and continued, "I'm actually not sure if I was ever really angry in the first place. I think it was more fear that made me react the way I did."

"Fear?" Enjolras asked.

"Yes. Fear. Fear of losing you. You know it's not easy for me to see you like this. I don't like to see you broken", Grantaire mumbled.

Enjolras was at a loss for words for a moment. "We agree on something finally then", he muttered, smiling slightly, "I don't like it either."

Grantaire didn't return the smile. "You don't understand."

"Then explain to me", Enjolras said, feeling a little worried. What was going on here? Combeferre told him he and Grantaire needed a good heart to heart talk. Had Grantaire been acting this way towards Combeferre as well?

"You'll think it's stupid"

"You don't know that until you tell me"

Grantaire sighed and mumbled: "fine, if you really want to know."

Enjolras narrowed his eyes at Grantaire, taking in the cautious attitude of his friend. He stayed silent, giving Grantaire the time to start talking.

"I uh…I've never exactly have lived a happy life you know. I mean, it's all been kind of crappy ever since..", he paused, taking a moment, "ever since my sister died when I was still a child."

Enjolras nodded, having heard the story before from Courfeyrac when Grantaire had only just joined their group a few years back.

"My parents changed after that. I never seemed to be able to fill my sisters' shoes. They kicked me out eventually and to cope with the loss and the guilt, I turned towards alcohol rather quickly. It made me feel less miserable."

Enjolras nodded, noticing that Grantaire still hadn't looked at him once and he could kind of relate to that. Talking about your past when it wasn't particularly happy, wasn't easy. He kept silent.

"Soon it wasn't enough though. I missed having my family around. I didn't have any friends and to be honest I was actually ready to just end it all. I hit rock bottom and I wanted to end all my pain and suffering, drown myself in that bottle of liquor and never wake up again. And that's when I met Courfeyrac. He actually found me on the verge of ending my misery. I never told him that though. And he took me to the Café, introduced me to all of you. And I met you Apollo, and you changed everything."

This took Enjolras by surprise. From the first day they met, he and Grantaire had been bickering, fighting and argumenting. How he could have been a change in Grantaire's feelings didn't make sense to him. "I don't understand", he said and he really didn't.

Grantaire smiled wryly. "I know you don't. And it's hard to explain. But you gave my life new meaning. Not through your ideals of course, because you know how I feel about them. But just because of you. You in person. You embody everything I ever wished to be. You are everything I never will be and being close to something like that turned everything around. I felt alive again. You are my exact opposite. A sun to my own rain, water to wine, life to death. I need you like I need the air to breath, Apollo. And I know that may sound horribly dependent, but that's what I am. I am dependent on you. Even though you may hate me and never count me as a friend, I see you as one of my best friends, because you save me every day, without even knowing it. You, and all the amis for that matter, mean more to me than any of you will ever realize."

He paused, looking down at his hands, over thinking his next few words. "When you collapsed in the café, I felt physically sick. I was so frightened I might lose my one anchor in life, because losing you Apollo, it would also mean the end of me. And how dramatic that may sound, it is the truth. Then Courfeyrac came in and told us you had been hiding a serious injury, I was angry, sure, but I was mostly scared. Because what if next time you succeeded in keeping it from us and we would find you dead in your bed, and you would've never known how much you mean to me, or to any of us for that matter. I had to talk to you right away and that's why I went up here that night, shouting and all. I was panicking…"

He trailed off, not really knowing how to continue anymore. Enjolras hadn't spoken at all. He had just listened, giving Grantaire all the time he needed to complete his story. Grantaire then suddenly felt a hand tugging at his own.

Enjolras had reached out and took hold of Grantaire's hand. "Look at me", he said. Grantaire obeyed. There was no anger or disappointment in Enjolras' eyes, only genuine concern and understanding.

" First of all", he started, "I do not hate you." Grantaire wanted to interrupt but Enjolras held up his hand. "It's my turn to speak now 'Taire"

"I don't hate you. Yes, I hate your drinking, and I have my reasons for it. I hate the fact that you always mock my beliefs, that you counter every argument I give and that you disturb my meetings. But that doesn't mean I hate you. On the contrary 'Taire, you mean as much to me as any of the other Amis. I know I don't show it, but that is because you always anger me so. You are one of the smartest men I know, you have such illuminating insights and you could do so much more if you only believed it yourself. I admire your loyalty, for you are without a doubt the most loyal of all the Amis. You don't believe in the cause, which annoys me, but you still stay and fight. You defend your friends and you would die for them in a second. Why do you think I keep you around? Not because I hate you 'Taire, on the contrary!"

Grantaire had looked away again. He wasn't used to this kind of friendliness from Enjolras. Then he felt his hand being squeezed gently and he looked back up.

"You and I are not so different as you think we might be. We have made different choices in life and chose different paths, but I can relate to your past in some ways." That was all he was going to say on that subject. He wasn't ready to tell it all again, he didn't feel like it.

At Grantaires confused look, he said. "I'm not going into details now, you can talk to Combeferre and Courfeyrac if you want, all I'll say now is that my past has not been as pleasant as some of you might think."

"Look, R, I really need you to get this through to you. You need to believe me when I say you are as much a part of our group as any other. Which you should actually count as an honor, since you don't even share our ideals."

He hesitated and then continued. "And I promise to you as I have promised the others that I will try to react differently if something's wrong with me. I'll promise to take better care of myself, if only for the benefit of my dear friends, you included."

He paused and took a breath. "But on one condition 'Taire."

"And what is that?", Grantaire asked quietly. Fearing Enjolras would demand him to stop drinking or something like that. He couldn't do that. He needed that drink almost as much as he needed Enjolras around.

Enjolras seemed to guess what Grantaire was thinking, for he said calmly, albeit a little annoyed: "Don't worry, I'm not going to take away your precious drink."

Grantaire smiled uncomfortable and let out a relieved breath.

"I want you to promise me to never forget this conversation we had."

Grantaire blinked at Enjolras. He hadn't expected that. He wanted to ask what the blonde leader meant by it, but he didn't have to, for he already explained himself.

"When I get back on my feet; when we're in a meeting again or a demonstration or whatever, you are going to be drunk, you are going to annoy me and I am going to say things. Things that are harsh, maybe even mean sometimes and I know they hurt you, just like your words hurt me at times. We both know that's going to happen again. I have issues with your drinking; you have issues with my revolution or 'useless sacrifice' as you call it. All I'm asking is to remember what I told you today. And to never forget it. I do not hate you 'Taire. And to know that you have always friends to come and talk to should you need it. Me included."

He made sure to emphasize that last part and squeezed his friends hand again, hoping his friend had really heard him.

Grantaire sniffed a bit and then looked Enjolras in the eyes. "I promise", his voice thick with emotion.

Enjolras smiled. "Good", he said.

They were both silent again, but this time it wasn't awkard. It was comfortable and easy. Enjolras started to really feel exhausted at this point and let his eyes fall close for a minute.

Grantaire made to stand, telling Enjolras he should go and let him rest, but Enjolras tightened his grip on Grantaire's hand, not quite ready to let go yet.

"You can stay", he mumbled sleepily, "Combeferre wouldn't take it kindly if you should leave me here all by myself." A small smile crept on his face at the thought of it.

Before he fell asleep, he said softly: "I'm really glad you came by R". Then his breathing evened out.

Grantaire sat silent. All sorts of emotions flooding through him. Non of them negative however, which was something new indeed. He would have never thought he and Enjolras would have a conversation such as the one they had just now. The fact that Enjolras counted him as one of his closest friends, despite their constant arguing, made Grantaire feel something he hadn't felt since before his sister died. He felt appreciated. He felt worthy. He felt loved.

He kept watch over his blonde friend until Combeferre and Courfeyrac came back home and then he stayed a little longer.

TBC

(_Well, I certainly hope you liked this chapter. It was pretty emotional for me to write. Please let me know what you think. I really want to know if I did good this chapter, for it was one of my hardest to write. Not many chapters left for this story now. But I hope I'm coming to a nice ending. See you next time!)_


	12. Chapter 12

_(My dear and loyal readers, we've come to the end of this fic! This will be the last chapter and I surely hope you've enjoyed the ride :) I had fun writing it. Thank you all so much for your support. Every single review was highly appreciated by me. Keep a sharp eye out, more hurt!enjolras fics will follow. For now, enjoy the last chapter of 'The weakness of being fine'._

It had been a week since the riot. Enjolras was doing better every day. After being a good patient for a couple of days, he had started to become restless however. His headaches had mostly lessened to a dull pounding and he was able to move around without the help from either Combeferre, Courfeyrac or any of the other Amis who happened to be around.

That was why it frustrated him to be ordered back to bed by Combeferre, everytime he was starting to enjoy himself or when he just got started working on something.

"Come on 'Ferre!", he complained, keeping a firm hold of the book which Combeferre tried to close, "I'm not tired and I feel perfectly fine!"

Combeferre only looked at him, eyebrows raised. He wasn't going to put this up for debate. They had made an agreement and that included for Enjolras to listen to him when he told him to get some rest.

"Good, let's keep it that way then, shall we", he replied, gently pushing Enjolras towards his bed, ignoring the scowl thrown his way.

But even Combeferre had to admit that Enjolras was doing better and that soon he didn't need to be limited to his own apartment. The wound on his head had healed nicely, the symptoms of his concussion had mostly worn off and he seemed more like himself every day. He started talking passionately again about his plans, preparing speeches and writing essays wherever Combeferre allowed him to and he was arranging new meetings for which he wanted all the Amis to be prepared.

Bahorel had come around some days after he had stormed out the room. He was still pissed, but he seemed to have allowed a cease-fire for now. Comebeferre soon found them discussing the Revolution as if nothing ever happened.

Grantaire had stopped by regularly, to Combeferre's and Courfeyrac's surprise. Neither of them knew what Enjolras and the cynic had talked about, but something in their relationship had changed. Grantaire had asked them about Enjolras' past, which Enjolras apparently had told him to do, and after they told him, Grantaire's respect and admiration for his Apollo had only grown bigger. The two talked almost without arguing, and even laughed with each other now and then.

The rest of the Amis had been regular visitors as well. They were starting to ask questions on when Enjolras would be released by Combeferre again to join them in the fight.

"I find myself asking that same question", Enjolras had answered, winking at Combeferre, who had rolled his eyes at him but couldn't hide a small smile.

During the moments Enjolras and Combeferre were alone, they talked about a lot of things. Mostly about the future, but Combeferre managed to get Enjolras to talk some more about his past as well. He soon learned however that his blonde friend didn't feel much for opening old wounds and so he decided not to dwell on it too long. Instead they talked about their past together, how they had formed Les Amis de L'ABC and they discussed their friends. Over those past few days, the two friends grew even closer than either of them had thought possible.

Enjorlas felt completely at ease with his friend and felt he could really be himself without being judged. A feeling he hadn't had felt in a very long time. He admired the way Combeferre had put his own life on hold, just to take care of his friend, to be there for him when he needed it, even if he found it hard to admit. He was beyond grateful and he made sure Combeferre knew that. The older man only blushed whenever Enjolras muttered those kind words and simply said it was only natural and he was glad to do it. They seemed to have grown from friends to brothers and both knew nothing would ever be able to break their strong bond.

But, as Enjolras was saying, he was getting better and it was time for him to get back to his life. Combeferre doubted if keeping him locked in his apartment any longer would actually benefit his health. Enjolras wasn't one for resting and doing nothing. He was a workaholic and he had been without 'work' for quite some time now. It would almost be cruel to keep him away any longer.

_Yes _, Combeferre thought, _It was time._

He smiled at his blonde friend, watching as he was writing fervently on an essay, his blonde curls falling spontaneously around his head. He walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, silently asking him for his attention.

Enjolras turned around in his chair and looked at his friend. Combeferre eyed him warily for a second and then sighed. "I have good news for you mon ami, I am releasing you from my prison."

Enjolras whole face broke into a smile. "Well, that was about time!" he chuckled, already standing up and reaching for his jacket. _Honestly, that boy_, Combeferre thought.

"Wait just a minute", he said as he held his friend back, who was already bolting for the door. "I agree, I think you are doing much better and I think you're ready to pick up your life again, but you must promise me to try to take it easy just for a little while longer. No public speeches yet. And whenever your body calls for it, for God's sake, please just listen to and get some rest."

Enjolras looked at Combeferre and then reached out to pull him in a hesitant, but firm hug. "I promise", he mumbled quietly. Then he let go again, turned around and walked towards the door. "You are coming?"

Combeferre still stood in the same place, rather surprised by the sudden embrace of his blonde leader. Then he smiled and said "Yes, I'm coming". He grabbed his coat and followed his friend.

The atmosphere in the Café couldn't be more enthusiastic when Combeferre arrived with Enjolras. They shared a laugh, they talked and they even got Enjolras to down one glass of red wine, resulting in Grantaire grinning from ear to ear.

Enjolras soon fell back into character however and the meeting turned more serious. He had been out of it for a week and there was a lot to be done. All of his friends didn't mind and were happy to see their leader once again in the role that was most fitting for him. All but one.

Graintaire remained seated in his corner, watching the others discussing their republican ideals and scoffed. He had hoped things might change. But then he remembered his conversation with Enjolras. He had predicted this. Grantaire smiled slightly and decided that if Enjolras could fall back into his role, so could he. So he stood, bottle in his hand, and walked towards the Amis. Counterarguments at the ready.

It didn't take long for the meeting to turn the way they used to be. By the end of the evening Grantaire and Enjolras were arguing again, causing the other Amis to just let them be, leave the discussion and enjoy themselves otherwise.

When everyone had gone home – Enjolras reluctant and under Combeferre's watchful eyes – Grantaire was the last one left. He was once again drunk. Drunker than he had been since this whole week. Yes, things had definitely gone back to normal.

He soon decided it was time to go home as well and when he had put on his jacket, he felt something in one of its pockets. He pulled out a small note. Turning it around, he stared at one single word, written in the most beautiful handwriting he had ever seen.  
_  
'Remember'_

That was all it said. And that was enough.

Grantaire pressed a soft kiss to the note and then put it back in his pocket. He would never lose it. Then he left the Café smiling.

The End.

(_I hope this was a good ending to this story. I always find it hard to write endings, because I don't like them. However, it didn't seem much use to me to keep continuing this story, you can only stretch a story so far. Please let me know what you thought! Also, I would like you to know that I am always happy to hear your ideas for other stories. If you have a good plot – preferable hurt!Enjolras – please PM me, and I might turn it into a story! I love to get inspired by you guys. Anyway, that's it for now. Again, thank you so much for sticking with me. It means a lot! Love, Sarahbob)_


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